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A CRXTRNNTAL DRAMATIC OFI'"ERING. 



A ROMANTIC DRAMA, 



IN FOUR ACTS, ENTITLED, 



THE SCA' 



dramatized fr( 
ma|- 




XETTER. 



L HAWTHORNE'S 
\NCE. 



/ 



By GABRIEL HARRISON. 

Author of "Life and Writings of John Howard Payne," "The Tragedy 
of 'Melanthea'," "The Stratford Bust of Shakespeare," etc. 



BROOKLYN, N. Y. : 

1' R 1 N r ED B V H A R R V M . GARDNER, J k . 
Corner Court and Joralemon Streets. 

1876 




=} 



u^ 



Entered according to Act of Congress, in tiie year 1874, 

By GABRIEL HARRISON, 

in tiie Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington. 



ONLY ONE HUNDRED 
COPIES PRINTED. 



CHARACTERS. 



Mr. Bellingham, Governor of Boston. Mass. 

Rev. Master Arthur Dimmesdale. 

Rev. Mr. Wilson. 

Roger Chillingworth. 

Master Townsman. 

Citizen Rawson. 

Capt. Goodwill. 

WOMEN. 

Hester Prynne. 

Pearl, Hester's child, seven years old. 

Mistress Hibbins, Governor Bellingham's Sister,— A 

Witch. 
Mistress Gossip. 
Mistress Small. 
Mary Mercy, and her little child. 

WITCHES AND INDIANS. 

Swamp-fox— Indian. 

SpeaR-Iiead- Indian, belonging to the band of witches. 
Blighted-TRUNK— a very old Indian woman, witch. 
Weeping-willow— a young, white girl. 
Fleet-wing — Indian. 

Nigiit-bird— an Indian boy about twelve years old. 
Soldiers, Citizens, Sailors, &c., &c. 
Scene, Boston, Mass. 
Time, 1650. Costumes of the time of King James. 




S[|)c Scarlet ficttcr. :3V. El., 1652. 



Hester Pryone, with the letter "A" upon her bosom, and her babe in her 
arms, is conducted by the Town Beadle from the old Boston Prison to the 
Penance Scaffold. O.awn by J. N. Hyde. 



SCARLET LETTER. 



ACT r. 

Scene First. (In two.) 

Exterior of a Prison, painted on flat. The building represents an 
old-fashioned wooden structure with wooden steps, leading up to 
an oaken door, with iron cross-bars across the centre. Black back- 
ing used. On each side of the door are small windows with iron 
bars. On the right of the door, painted on the scene, is a rose- 
bush, in full bloom, running up the face of the house. On each 
side of the house is a rough stone-wall eight feet high, with sharp 
iron pickets running along its top. Trees are seen beyond as if 
standing in the prison yard. The scene is strong in character. A 
crowd of men, women, squaws and children are discovered stand- 
ing and sitting around in groups. Mistress Small, Gossip, Mary 
Mercy, Master Townsman, Rawson and others, standing in centre 
of stage. 

Gossip. Good wives, I'll tell ye a piece of my mind. It 
would be greatly for the public behoof, if we women, 
being of mature minds and age, and church-members in 
good standing, should have the handling of such malefac- 
tresses as this Hester Prynne. What think ye, gossips? 
If the hussy stood up for judgment before us five, that 
are now here in a knot together, would she come off wdth 
such a sentence as the worshipful magistrates have award- 
ed ? marry, I trow not ! 

Small. People say that the Reverend Master Dimmes- 
dale, her godly pastor, takes it very grievously to heart 
that such a scandal should have come upon his congrega- 
tion. 

Gossip. The magistrates are God-fearing gentlemen, but 
merciful overmuch, — that is a truth. At the very least, 
they should have put the brand of a hot iron on Hester 



4 The Scaklet Letter. 

Prynne's forehead. Madam Hester would have winced 
at that, T warrant me. But she, — the naughty baggage, — 
little will she care what they put upon the bodice of her 
gown! — why, look you, she may cover it with a broach, 
or such like heathenish adornment, and so walk the streets 
as brave as ever ! 

Small. Who knows, she may come, stalking out of the 
prison, with a bunch of flowers covering her brand of 
shame, so that none of us can see the shape of the letter. 

Gossip. A bunch of flowers! The sharpest thorn-apple 
that ever grew, were too soft and beautiful for the hus- 
sy's bosom! 

Mercy. O ! peace, gentlewomen, let her cover the mark 
as she will, the pang of it will always be in her heart, and 
that's enough. 

Gossip. I sa}?^ this woman has brought shame upon us 
all, and ought to die. Is there not law for it ? Truly there 
is, both in the scripture and the statute-book. Then let 
the magistrates, who have made these laws of no effect, 
thank themselves if their own wives and daughters go 
astray ! 

Mercy. Good friends, does it follow because one goes 
unpunished here, that God doth not forgive sin. Better 
that we should forgive and help Hester out of her troubles. 
Indeed, Mistress Gossip, you are too hard, and I sorrow 
for poor Hester. 

Gossip. You do ! Shame upon you then. Look to the 
child you hold by the hand ; take care her future becomes 
not like Hester's. 

Toivnsnmn. Mercy me, good wife, is there no virtue in 
woman save what springs from a wholesome fear of the 
gallows ? 

Mercy. One would think so, master Townsman, the way 
Mistress Gossip talks. — (The prison-door is heard to unlock, and 
the chain to fall.) But hush ! the lock is turning in the prison- 
door, and we will soon see Hester Prynne herself, and may- 
hap some people's hearts will soften a little. 

Gossip. Not mine, I warrant you ! She should be punish- 
ed, — but stay ! See ! The door is open — 



The Scarlet Letter. 5 

The prison-door opens. The Beadle comes down the steps. Hester 
is seen standing inside of the doorway with her babe in her arms. 
A ray of light falls across her head and shoulders, which are artist- 
ically relieved against the back-ground. A murmur is heard to pass 
througri the crowd, and all push forward to see Hester. 

The Beadle with his staff parts the crowd so as to make a centre- 
opening, that all may see Hester. 

Beadle. Room there ! make room, and behold Hester 
Prynne ! Room, I say! and behold the Scarlet Letter! 
Picture. Hester stands for a moment or two inside of the doorway, 
then steps out upon the upper step. The crowd all stare at her, 
and whisper to each other. 

Mistress Gossip, {R. C.) She has good skill in her needle, 
that's certain, but did any before this brazen hussy, con- 
trive such a way of showing it ! Why, gossips, what is it 
but to laugh in the faces of our own godly magistrates, and 
make a pride out of what the worthy gentlemen meant for 
a punishment ! 

Small. It were well if we stripped Madame Hester's 
rich gown off of her dainty shoulders ; and as for the red 
letter, which she hath stitched so curiously, I'll bestow a 
rag of mine own rheumatic flannel to make a fitter one ! 

Mercy. O ! peace ! neighbors, peace ! do not let her hear 
you : there is not a stitch in that embroidered letter but 
what has gone to her very soul. 

Beadle, (making gesture with his staff.) Make way, good 
people ! In the King's name, make way ! Open a passage, 
and, I promise ye, Mistress Prynne shall be set where man, 
woman, and child shall have a fair sight of her brave ap- 
parel. A blessing on the righteous colony of the Massa- 
chusetts, where iniquity is dragged out into the sunshine ! 
Come along, Madame Hester, and show your scarlet letter 
in the market-place ! 

(The people shout " The market-place! The market-place !") The 
Beadle leads the Procession! Two Soldiers form in front of Hester 
and two to the rear of her. The people follow. 

Beadle. Move on ! to the market-place ! the market- 
place ! [Excitement. Exuent crowd, L. H. ist E.] 

Tow7isnian. I feel more sorrow for this woman thus held 
up to shame before the low rabble, and their vile taunts 



6 The Scarlkt Lkttkr. 

and sneers, than I could, were she beuig conducted to 
death. 

Rawson. O far better death, were 1 the woman, but 
something must be done for the cause of virtue. 

Townsman. But one would think this were a common 
crime, and required the rigorous effects of the law to stay 
its progress. I in truth have more faith in woman, and as 
to the law, I'd rather quietl}^ ship her back to England, 
than thus crush her by such an exposure. 

Rawson. You are right, besides it is a sin better known 
to itself than to the public. 'Tis strange who the father 
is. — But let us to the market-place and see how poor Hes- 
ter stands her hard fate. Exeunt. L. H. ist E. 



Scene Second. The Market-Place. 

An old-fashioned Boston street. In the C of the Stage a platform four 
feet high. Steps in front. A rail around the top of platform. 
The structure represents the Pillory. On R. from 2d to 4th. E. 
a building representing a City Hall, with a stoop across the front 
two steps high, and broad enough for Characters to stand upon. 
Balcony, with columns to support it. Hester is discovered on 
th c Pillory, with her child in her arms. The Beadle stands at 
foot of Steps, L. Two Soldiers R. & L. of steps. Four Soldiers 
with their halberts, behind the Governor's chair on the stoop. Citi- 
zens on the left from 2d to 4th E. Wilson and Dimmesdale on 
the Stoop. Chillingworth, Townsman, Swamp-fox, and Rawson 
above 1st E. L. H. Gossip, Small, Mercy and Child, in front of 
Crowd L. Hibbins disguised as a witch L. between 2d and 3d E. 

Chil/ingworth. I pray you, good Sir, who is this woman? 
and wherefore is she here set up to public shame ? 

Townsman. You must needs be a stranger in this region, 
friend, else you would surely have heard of Mistress Hes- 
ter Prynne and her evil doings. She hath raised a great 
scandal in godly Master Dimmesdale's church. The sight 
is a pity. 

Chillingworth. Indeed ! (Chillingworth turns and looks for a 
moment at Hester. Hester observes Chillingworth, and starts. Chil- 
lingworth motions her to be silent by placing his fingers on his lips. 



The Scarlkt Lettkr. 7 

You sa)'^ truly, it is a pity. But who will hear the cause ? 

Toivnsman. The Governor, for whom they wait, and 
other magistrates. 

Chillingzvorth. And what may be their office, now seated 
upon the porch yonder? 

Townsman. The older of the two, and at the right, is the 
celebrated Reverend Mr. Wilson. The young man with 
pale face, is the Reverend Master Dimmesdale, of great elo- 
quence, and stands very high with the godly people of 
Boston. 

Chillingzvorth. Pray tell me more of this. I am a stranger, 
and have been a wanderer sorely against my will. I have 
met with grievous mishaps by sea and land, and have been 
long held in bonds among the heathen folk, to the south- 
ward, and am now brought hither by this Indian, to be re- 
deemed out of my captivity. Will it please you, therefore, 
to tell me of Hester Prynne's offences ? and what has 
brought her to yonder scaffold ? 

Townsman. Truly, friend ; it must gladden your heart, 
after your sojourn in the wilderness, to find yourself at 
length in a land where iniquity is searched out, and pun- 
ished, as here in godly New-England. Yonder woman, 
sir, you must know, was the wife of a certain learned man, 
EngHsh by birth, but who had long dwelt in Amsterdam 
whence some good time agone, he was minded to cross 
over and cast his lot with us of the Massachusetts. To 
this purpose he sent his wife before him, remaining him- 
self to look after some necessary affairs. Marry, good sir, 
in some two years or less, that the woman has been a dwel- 
ler here in Boston, no tidings having come of this learned 
gentleman, and his young wife, left to her own misguid- 
ance, is thus exposed and branded with the letter A, which 
stands for adultery. 

CJiillingworth. Ah ! Aha I — I understand. — So learned 
a man as you speak of, should have learned this, too, in his 
books. And who, by your favor, sir, may be the father 
of yonder babe? — It is some two or three months old, I 
should judge. 

Townsman. Of a truth, friend, that matter remaineth a 



8 The Scarlet Letter. 

riddle ; and the Daniel who shall expound it, is yet a-want- 
ing. Madam Hester absolutely refuseth to speak to that 
point, and the magistrates laid their heads together in vain 
to find that out; peradventure the guilty one stands look- 
ing on at this sad spectacle unknown of man, and forget- 
ting that God sees him. 

Chillingworth. The learned man should come himself, to 
look into the mystery, 

Toivnsman. It behoves him well, if he be still in life. 
Now, my good sir, our Massachusetts magistracy, bethink- 
ing themselves, that this woman is youthful and fair, and 
doubtless was strongly tempted to her fall ; — and that, 
moreover, as is most likely, her husband may be at the 
bottom of the sea ; — they have not been bold enough to 
put in force the extremity of the law against her. The 
penalty thereof is death, but in their tenderness of heart, 
they doomed Mistress Prynne to stand a space of three 
hours on yonder platform ; and then, for the remainder of 
her natural life, to wear the mark of shame upon her 
bosom, 

(Jhillingworth. Thus she will be a living sermon against 
her sin, and then mayhap, for an epitaph, the ignominious 
letter will be engraved upon her tombstone. (Enter Governor 
C. D.) But stay, that is the Governor, I take it. Let us 
stand aside, and see what mav be the result. As Governor 
Bellingham steps foward on the porch, there is a stir among the crowd. 

Govtrnor. Hearken unto me, Hester Prynne. As the 
chief magistrate of this state, I am performing a duty more 
sad than any other that could befall me. Plere, in the mar- 
ket-place, before the whole town's people, you stand — a 
public mark for the finger of shame to point at. It is not 
my purpose to torment you by dwelling at length upon 
the nature of your sin. I believe there is a mitigant, a 
balm for you, in revealing the name of him linked with 
yours in this misdeed. May Heaven give you strength 
to the performance of this duty, which you owe )'Ourself 
and the public. Speak ! (a pause, Hester keeps silent.) She an- 
swers not. (to Wilson. Governor sits down.) 

Wilson, (rises) Hester Prynne, I have striven with my 



The Scaklkt Lp:tter. 9 

yoiin^ brother here, under whose preaching of the word 
you have been privileged to sit. I have sought, I say, to 
persuade this godly youth, that he should deal with you 
here in the face of Heaven. Knowing 3'our natural tem- 
per better than I, he could the better judge what argu- 
ments to use, whether of tenderness or sorrow, such as 
might prevail over your obstinacy ; insomuch that you 
should no longer hide the name of him who tempted you 
to this grievous fall. But he opposes me, urging that it 
were wronging the very nature of woman to force her to 
lay open her hearts' secrets in such broad daylight, and 
in presence of so great a multitude. What say you to it, 
once again, brother Dimmesdale ! Must it be thou or I 
that shall deal with this poor sinner's soul? 

Beltingham. Good master Dimmesdale, the responsibility 
of this woman's soul lies greatly with you. It behoves 
you, therefore, to exhort her to repentance, and to con- 
fession as a proof and consequence thereof. 

Wilson. Speak to the woman, my brother. It is of mo- 
ment to her soul, and therefore, as the worshipful Gov- 
ernor says, momentous to thine own, in whose charge 
hers is. Exhort her to confess the truth ! 

Dimmesdale. (rises slowly with his hand on his heart.) Hester 
Prynne, thou hearest what this good man says, and seest 
the accountability under Avhich I labor. If thou feelest it 
to be for thy soul's peace, and that thy earthly punishment 
will thereby be made more effectual to salvation, I charge 
thee, speak out the name of thy fellow-sinner. Be not 
silent from any mistaken pity and tenderness for him ; for, 
believe me, Hester, though he were to step down from a 
high place, and stand there beside thee on thy pedestal of 
shame, yet better were it so, than to hide a guilty heart 
through life. What can thy silence do for him, except it 
tempt him— yea, compel him, as it were — to add hypocrisy 
to sin? Heaven hath granted thee an open ignominy, that 
thereby thou mayest work out an open triumph over the 
evil within thee, and the sorrow without. Take heed how 
thou deniest to him —who, perchance, hath not the cour- 
age to grasp for himself— that bitter but wholesome cup 



10 The Scarlet Leiter. 

that is now presented to thy lips. Hester Prynne, speak 

out the guilty name ! 

(Hester shakes her head, indicating No! after which Dimmesdale sits.) 

Wilson. (Rises.) Woman, transgress not beyond the limits 
of Heaven's mercy ! That little babe hath been gifted 
with a voice, to second and confirm the counsel which thou 
hast heard. Speak out the name ! that thy repentance 
may avail to take the Scarlet Letter off thy breast. (A pause.) 

Hester, (lookinginto the troubled eyes of Dimmesdale.) Never! It 
is too deeply branded. Ye cannot take it off, and would 
that I might endure his agony, as well as mine ! never ! 

Chillingzvorth. (in the crowd.) Speak, woman! speak! and 
give thy child a father ! 

Hester. I will not speak ! and my child must seek a hea- 
venly Father ; she shall never know an earthly one ! 

Dimmesdale. (aside.) She will not speak — wondrous strength 
and generosity of a woman's heart! — she will not speak! 

Bellingham. Good people of Boston, all has been done 
that can be done to exhort this woman to name the com- 
panion of her guilt. She has stood the terrible trial as 
one hardened, and may that God who tempers all things 
to righteousness, temper her disposition to divulge the 
name of him who has helped her to fasten this misdeed on 
our fair town. IJ ester Prynne, 1 leave you to your own 
conscience ! (Exit all from the porch through the door. The Beadle 
motions to Hester to leave the platform, two Soldiers follow the Beadle, 
Hestei* next, two Soldiers follow. The people fall in behind and form 
procession. They march down centre and exit 1st E, L. H. As Hes- 
ter turns to L. Mistress Hibbins speaks to her.) 

Hibbins. You stand it bravely, Hester. A stout heart 
has Hester Prynne. (aside.) Hibbins imnsediately comes over and 
hides behind a column of the City Hall and watches Townsman and 
Chillingworth. 

Chillingzcorth. It irks me much she did not tell his name, 
that we might know at least that much of the partner of 
her iniquity. But he will be known ! 

Townsman. In truth, I doubt it, unless he comes foward 
himself — Evident he was not here in the crowd, and if he 
were, a baser coward never walked God's earth, to stand 
silent and see her suffer thus. 



The Scari-kt Lkttek. 11 

Chillingzvorth. To me that's a mystery, and he still dwells 
here in Boston. And what disposition do they make of 
her now? 

Townsman. Back to the prison, and when to-morrow 
comes, or perhaps a later day, they will thrust her forth 
to meet and battle with the world as best she can.. 

ChtUingworth. Disgraced and homeless ! Pointed at, per- 
haps a beggar ! a wanderer ! a letter of shame blazing up- 
on her bosom, and a babe buckled upon her back. But 
he shall be known. He shall be known. He shall be known. 
Exit Chillingworth, Townsman and Indian, L. F. E. 



Scene Third. 



Same as the first, under moonlight-eiFedls. A light seen in the Prison 
window. Hibbins enters quickly from L. H. F. E. 
Hibbms. I'll watch and learn more. A fine story this for 
witchcraft, if I but get at the root of it, and may be. Mis- 
tress Hester, I'll find out your partner without the telling 
of your mouth ; but stay ! they come, and the shadow of 
this tree shall have ears, and hear words for the tongue's 
prattle. (Retires behind stump of tree R. H. F. E.) 

Enter Chillingworth and Townsman, (L. isc E.) 

Chillingworth. Yes, f have satisfied my Indian companion, 
who has gone for the night to dwell with some of his kind, 
who hold a small camp hard by. On the morning I shall 
arrange my ransom with the Governor. 

Townsman. And I hope all things will be to your liking. 
There is the prison, that contains the branded Hester, 
and she must, as I take it, now sleep soundly after her expo- 
sure. (Brackett enters from prison-door with lantern in hand.) Here 
comes the jailor! I'll speak to him, and tell him that the 
Governor sends you for a night's shelter. A fair night, 
Master Brackett! The moon will be your better lantern, 
or you have far to go. 
, Brackett. I, marry ! And is it you, Master Townsman ? 

Townsman. Ever the same. The Governor sends this 
stranger, one Chillingworth, to rest with you to-night. 
You will care for him as best you can. 



12 The Scarlet Letter. 

Brackett. Our best is but ill, but ill betide me if I fail to 
do iny best. I'll take thee in ere I depart, for I must hast- 
en to find a medicine-man. Mistress Hester wanders in 
her mind, and I wonder not at it. I bethought me she 
was over-brave and stout of heart, and would pass through 
this day without a blanch or ache. 

Chillingzvorth. Then, good Master Brackett, go no further ; 
put by thy lantern, and save thy walk. Physical science 
has been my study. It would please me to tend to Hes- 
ter's wants, — may I serve you ? 

Brackett. I, faith, and on the instant, for, I fear me, she will 
do some half-frenzied mischief to the poor babe, as well as 
to herself. 

Chillingzvorth. Fear nothing, my medicines are potent. 

Brackett. An' your worship can accomplish her health, I 
shall own thee for a man of skill indeed. She is like a 
possessed one, and there lacks little I should take in hand, 
and drive Satan out of her with stripes. 

CInllinguorth. Think not of that. Master Townsman, 
thanks for your attendance here, and to-morrow we will 
meet again. Good-night. 

Townsman. Good-night, and an undisturbed rest. (Exit L. 
1st E.) 

Brackett. A sorry place — a prison to lodge in, but better 
than no place at all, and not a prisoner. (Brackett and Chil- 
lingvvQrth enter prison.) 

Hibbins. (Advaticfs from tree to centre.) Roger Chillingworth ! 
Hester ill ! and it were strange, were she not so. This 
strange interest grows apace. Chillingworth I a new name 
for godly Boston, and I ne'er heard it before. I too will 
enter and offer comfort to Hester. (She stands in shade of the 
tree, drops off her over-skirt, takes her shawl off her head, and removes 
false hair, and in an instant appears the well-dressed Mistress Hibbins, 
the sister of Governor Bellingham. After taking off her disguise, she 
ties them up in a colored handkerchief.) It is the way of witch- 
craft to learn by stealth. (Ascends steps and knocks twice at door.) 

Brackett. (Comes to door.) Why, good Mistress Hibbins ! 
and at this time of night ! 

Hibbins. Yes, Master Brackett, I come to inquire about 



The ScAiiLKT Lkttkr. 13 

the sick prisoner, and how Hester stood her exposure to- 
day. 

Brackett. You shall know both. Come in. (Exeunt.) 



Scene Fourth. 

Interior of Prison (in 3) representing a whitewashed room (Boxed) 
L. H. 2d E; a heavy oaken door with cross-bars above its centre. 
R. H. 1st E; a window. Against flat L. C ; a low wooden bed- 
stead neatly fixed, and Hester's babe upon it. At R. C. a table 
covered with white ruffled drapery; a stone pitcher, tin cup and 
candle lighted on table ; two stools. Hester discovered sitting R. 
of table, hair in a disordered state, hanging over her shoulders, with 
the moonlight falling across her head and shoulders through the 
window. Chillingworth standing L. of table. 

Chillingworth. My old studies in alchemy, and my sojourn 
for more than a year among a people well versed in the 
kindly properties of simples, have made a better physician 
of me than many that claim the medicine degree. (Drops 
medicine in a tin cup from a small bottle taken from his breast-pocket.) 
Now, woman, since your child, — I said yours, not mine ! 
has found ease from my drug, let it administer to yours. 
(Offers the cup to Hester who refuses to take it, at the same time gazing 
with marked apprehension into his face.) Foolish woman, why 
should I harm thee, or thy misgotten babe ? The medicine 
is potent for good, and, were it my child, yea, mine own, 
as well as thine ! I could do no better for it, or thee. I 
know not Lethe or Nepenthe, but I have learned many 
new secrets in the wilderness, and here is one of them — a 
recipe that an Indian taught me, in requital for some of 
mine own, that were as old as Paracelsus. Drink it ! It 
may be less soothing than a sinless conscience. That I 
cannot give thee, but it will calm the swell and heaving of 
thy passion, like oil thrown on the waves of a tempestuous 
sea. Drink it! (Offers to Hester. She receives it with a look of 
doubt.) 

Htster, I have thought of death, have wished for it, 
would e'en have prayed for it, were it fit that such as I 
should pra}^ for anything. Yet if death be in this cup, I 



14 The Scarlet Letter. 

bid thee think again, ere thou beholdest me quaff it. Sec ! 
It is even now at iny lips. 

Chillingzvorth. Drink then: — dost thou know me so little, 
Tlester Prynne ? Are my purposes wont to be so shallow ? 
Even if I imagine a scheme of vengeance, what could I do 
better for m)' object than to let thee live ? — than to give 
thee medicines against all harm and peril of life ; — so that 
this burning shame may still blaze ui)on thv bosom ? (lays 
his finger on the Scarlet Letter. Hester shrinks.) Live, therefore, 
and bear about thy doom with thee, in the eves of men 
and women,— in the eyes of him thou didst call thy hus- 
band, — in the eyes of yonder child ! And that thou may- 
est live, take off this draught. (Hester drains the cup, lets it 
fall upon the floor, and sinks back into the chair. Chillingworth brings 
the old chair from beside the bed and sits opposite to Hester.) Hes- 
ter, I ask not wherefore nor how thou hast fallen into the 
pit, or, say rather, thou hast ascended to the pedestal of 
infamy, on which I found thee. The reason is not far to 
seek. It was my folly, and thy weakness. I — a man of 
thought, — the book-worm of great libraries, — a man al- 
ready in deca}', having given my best years to feed the 
hungry dreams of knowledge, — what had I to do with 
youth and beauty like thine own I Mis-shapen from my 
birth-hour, how could I delude myself with the idea that 
intellectual gifts might veil physical deformity in a young 
girl's fancy ! Men call me wise. If sages were ever wise 
in their own behoof, I might have foreseen all this. I 
might have known that, as I came out of the vast and dis- 
mal forest, and entered this settlement of christian men, 
the very first object to meet my eyes would be thyself, 
Hester Prynne, standing up, a statue of ignominy before 
the people. Na}', from the moment we came down the 
old church steps together, a married pair, I might have 
beheld the bale-fire ot that Scarlet Letter blazing at the 
end of our path ! 

Hesttr. Thou knowest that I was frank with thee. I felt 
no love, nor feigned any. 

ChiUingzvorth. True. It was mv folly ! I have said it, I 
had lived in vain. The world had been so cheerless ! ]^Iy 



TlIK SCAKLKT LeTTKR. 15 

heart was a habitation large enough for many guests, but 
lonely and chill, without a household fire. I longed to 
kindle one. It seemed not so wild a dream. Old as I was, 
and sombre as 1 was, and mis-shapen as I was,— that the 
simple bliss, which is scattered far and wide, for all man- 
kind to gather up, might yet be mine. And so, Hester, I 
drew thee into my heart, into its innermost chamber, and 
sought to warm thee by the warmth thy presence made 
there ! 

Hester. I have greatly wronged thee. 

Chillingu'orth. We have wronged each other; mine was 
the first wrong, when I betrayed thy budding youth into 
a false and unnatural relation with my decay. Therefore, 
as a man who has not thought and philosophized in vain, I 
seek no vengeance, plot no evil against thee. Between 
thee and me, the scale hangs fairly balanced. Hester, the 
man lives who has wronged us both ! Who is he? 

Hester. (Starts and looks him in the face.) Ask me not. My 
heart is barred and bolted. My tongue is clinched. Thou 
shalt never know ! 

Chillingworth. Never, sayest thou ? Never know him ? 
Believe me, Hester, there are few things, — either in the 
outward world, or, to a certain depth, in the invisible 
sphere of thought,— few things hidden from the man who 
devotes himself earnestl}' and unreservedly to the solution 
of a mystery. Thou mayest cover up thy secret from the 
prying multitude; thou mayest conceal it, too. from the 
ministers and magistrates, even as thou didst this da)'^, 
when they sought to wrench the name out of thy heart, 
and give thee a partner on thy pedestal. But as for me, I 
come to the inquest with other senses than they possess. 
I shall seek this man, as I have sought truth in books; as I 
have sought gold in alchemy. There is a sympathy that 
will make me conscious of him. I shall see him tremble. 
I shall feel myself shudder suddenly and unawares. Sooner 
or later he must needs be mine ! (Hester shudders and clasps 
her hand over her heart.) 

Hester, (aside.) My God ! what power this man's words 
have over me ! I feel as if he had unbarred my heart, and 



16 The Scarlet Letter, 

reads his name, in letters of blazini^ fire. Oh Heaven! 
make me speechless rather than let me tell it ! 

Chillingzoorth. Thou wilt not reveal his name? Not the 
less is he mine. He bears no letter of infamy wrought in- 
to his garments, as thou dost ; but I shall read it on his 
heart. Yet fear not for him ! Think not I shall interfere 
with Heaven's own method of retribution, or, to my own 
loss, betray him to the gripe of human law. Neither im- 
agine that I shall contrive aught against his life ; No, nor 
against his fame, if, as I judge, he be a man of fair repute. 
Let him live ! Let him hide himself in outward honor, if 
he may ! Not the less he shall be mine ! 

Hester. Thy acts are like mercy, but thy words interpret 
thee as a terror. 

Cliiliingworth. One thing, thou that wast my wife, I would 
enjoin upon thee. Thou hast kept the secret of thy par- 
amour, keep likewise mine! There arc none in this land 
that know me. Breathe not to any human soul that thou 
didst ever call me husband ! Here, on this wild outskirt 
of the earth, I shall pitch my tent; for elsewhere a wan- 
derer, and isolated from human interest, I find here a 
woman, a man, a child, between whom and myself there 
exist the closest ligaments. No matter whether of love 
or hate ; no matter whether of right or wrong ! Thou and 
thine, Hester Prynne, belonging to me, my home is where 
thou art and where he is. But betray me not! 

Hester. Wherefore dost thou desire it? Why not an- 
nounce thyself openly, and cast me off at once ? 

Chillingzvortk. It may be because I will not encounter the 
dishonor that besmirches the husband of a faithless" woman. 
It may be for other reasons. Enough ; it is my purpose 
to live and die unknown. Let, therefore, thy husband be 
to the world as one already dead, and of whom no tidings 
shall ever come. Recognize me not, by word, by sign, by 
look. Breathe not the secret, above all, to the man thou 
wottest of. Shouldst thou fail me in this, beware! His 
fame, his position, his life, will be in my hands. Beware I 

Hi-stir. I will keep thy secret, as I keep his. 

Cliillingzvorth. Swear it ! (with a smile.) 



The Scarlet Letter. 17 

Hester. Why dost thou smile at me? Art thou like the 
black man that haunts the forest round about us ? Hast 
thou enticed me into a bond that will prove the ruin of 
my soul ! 

Chillingworth. Not th}' soul, no, not thine. Hester Prynne, 
swear to keep my secret ? 

Hester. I have said T will keep thy secret as I have his. 

Chillingworth. Swear it ! (Points Hester to kneel. She falls on 
her knees beside the table.) 

Hester. T swear ! (crossing her hands upon the Scarlet Letter.) 

Picture, curtain falls to slow music. 

END ACT FIRST. 



ACT 11. 

Scene First. (In two.) 

A LAPSE OF SEVEN YEARS. 

The library and study of Dimmesdale and Chillingworth. The room 
represents an old-fashioned, vvainscoted apartment. Several book- 
cases painted on the scene. R. C. table, with several books on it, 
pen, ink, paper, &c., &c. At L. second E, a large, open window 
through which are seen the tops of the village houses and a white 
church-steeple, illuminated by the warm rays of the setting sun. 
Immediately in front of the window is a large table with chemical 
apparatus. Dimmesdale is discovered sleeping in a chair L. of 
table. Dimmesdale is much changed, looking pale and thin, the 
bosom of his dress is partly open. Chillingworth is also much 
changed, more bent in form. His hair has become white. His 
face is deeply marked with the lines of melancholy, and indica- 
tions of a student. 
Chillingwortk. (Enters L. ist E. with an arm-full of herbs and large 
leaves. He lays them upon the table at window. He discovers 
Dimmesdale sleeping, passes behind table R. C. leans over and 
looks into the open dress of Dimmesdale.) 

Chillingxvorth. Sleeping, — So, So ! — wrought into the very 
flesh, and over his heart — Hush! (passes carefully over to L. 
1st E. and exit. Dimmesdale awakens in time to see Chillingworth, 
starts &nd hastily fixes his dress.) 

Di)}iuiesdalc. Chillingworth ! what a strange man is this, 
of deep thoughts, and great knowledge, and though com- 
panionable to me in such things, )'et otherwise how I 
shrink from him, and fear the scrutiny of his weird eyes 
that seem to know my very soul. To me he seems like 
a memory of a frightful dream, that constantly haunts, but 
realizes nothing. I like and dislike him, both at once. Now 
three years and more since he was made resident here 
with me, by my godly friends, to look after m}^ health ; 
but he looks in vain for the source of my ailment, and 
needs must burrow to the centre of the earth, or gather 
his herbs from another planet, ere he will find my nepen- 
the or my secret — but, stay, he comes again. (Enter Chil- 



The Scarlet Letter. 19 

lingworth with more herbs, and places them on the table at the window.) 
Where, my kind doctor Chillingvvorth, didst thtni gather 
those herbs with such dark and flabby leaves ? 

CldUingzvorth. (at window.) Even in the grave-yard here at 
hand. They ai'e new to me. I found them growing out 
of a grave which bore no tomb-stone, nor other memorial 
of the dead, save these ugly weeds that have taken upon 
themselves to keep whoever it may be in remembrance. 

They grew out of his or her heart, to typify, it may be, 
some hideous secret that was buried with him or her, 
which they had done better to confess during life. 

Dimmesdale. Perhaps they earnestly desired it, but could 
not. 

Ckilhngwortk. And wherefore not, since all the powers of 
nature call so earnestly for the confession of sin, that these 
black leaves have sprung up out of a buried heart, to make 
manifest an unspoken crime. 

Dimmesdalc. That, good sir, is but a fantasy of yours. 
There can be, if I forbode aught, no power, short of the 
Divine mercy, to reveal, whether by words, by type, or em- 
blem, the secrets that may be buried with a human heart. 
The heart making itself guiltv of such secrets, must per- 
force hold them until the da}^ when all hidden things shall 
be disclosed. And I conceive, moreover, that the heart 
holding such miserable secrets as you speak of, will 3neld 
them up at that last day, not with reluctance, but with a 
joy unutterable. 

CJiillingivortJi. Then why not reveal them here? Why 
should not the guilty ones sooner avail themselves of this 
unutterable joy ? 

Dininicsdalc. They mostly do. (placing his hand over his heart.) 
]V^an3^ many a poor soul hath given its confidence to me, 
not only on their death-bed, but while strong in life. Oh ! 
what a relief have I witnessed in those sinful brethren! 

ChillingwortJi. Yes, and why should a wretched man, 
guilty, we will say, of murder, prefer to keep the corpse 
buried in his own heart rather than fling it forth at once, 
and let the universe take cai-e of it? And yet some nieji 
bury their secrets thus. 



20 The Scarlet Letter, 

Dimmesdalc. True, there are such men. ]t ma}' be they 
are kept silent by the very constitution of their nature ; 
they shrink from displaying themselves blackened in view 
of men ; because thence-forward, no good can be achieved 
by them ; no evil of the past can be redeemed by better 
service. So, to their own unutterable torment, they go 
about among their fellow-creatures, looking pure as new- 
tallen snow ; while their hearts are all speckled and spot- 
ted with iniquity of which they cannot rid themselves. 

Chillingivorth. They deceive themselves, they fear to take 
up the shame that rightfully belongs to them. Their re- 
gard of man, their zeal for God's service, their h(3ly im- 
pulses may or may not co-exist in their hearts with the 
evil inmates to which their guilt has unbarred the door, 
and which must needs propagate a hellish breed within 
them. But if they seek to glorify God, let them not lift 
heaven-ward theii" unclean hands ! If they would serve 
their fellow-men, let them do it by making manifest the 
power and reality of conscience, in constraining them to 
penitential self-abasement. Would you have me to believe, 
O wise and pious friend, that a false show can be better — 
can be more for God's glory, or man's welfare, than God's 
own truth? Trust me, such men deceive themselves? 

Diinincsdalc. It may be so. — ^But now, I would ask my 
well-skilled physician, whether in good sooth, he deems 
me ^o have profited by his kindly care of this weak frame 
of mme ? (The clear wild laugh of Pearl is heard without. Chilling- 
worth looks out of the window.) 

Chillingworth. There is no law, nor reverence for author- 
ity, nor regard for human ordinances, or opinions, right 
or wrong, mixed up in that child's composition. There 
she is, dancing upon a grave. I saw her the other day, 
bespatter the Governor himself with water, at the cattle- 
trough in Spring lane. What in Heaven's name is she? 
Is the imp altogether e\al ? Hath she affections? Hath 
she any discoverable principle of being? 

Dimmesdale. None, — save the freedom of a broken law. 
Whether capable of good, I know not. 

Chillingivorth. There goes a woman, who, be her demerits 



The Scarlet Lettee. 21 

what they may, hath none of that mystery of hidden sin- 
fidness which we deem so grievous to be borne. Is Hes- 
ter Prynne the more miserable, think 3-011, for that Scar- 
let letter on her breast? 

Dimmesdale. I do verily believe it. (Places his hand over his 
heart.) Nevertheless, I cannot answer for her. But still, 
methinks, it must needs be better for the sufferer to be free 
to show his pain, as this poor woman, than to cover it all 
up in his heart. 

CliiJlingzoorth. They, the magistrates, and the godl}^ men 
of our good city, talk of taking Hester's child from her. 
They purport that she is not fit to bring her up in the path 
she should go. Will )^ou hear the case to-morrow? And 
if so, will it please you, that I go with you ? 

Dimmesdale. (Restless.) With all my heart. I have been 
sent for in consultation. 

Chilling-worth. You inquired of me, a little time agone, 
my judgment touching your health. 

Dimmesdale. I did, and would gladly learn it. Speak 
frankly, I pray you, be it for life or death. 

Chillingzuorth. Plainly then, the disorder is a strange one, 
so far at least, as the symptoms have been laid open to my 
observations. Looking daily at you, good sir, and watch- 
ing the tokens of your aspect, now for months gone by, I 
deem you a man sore sick, — it may be, yet not so sick but 
that an instructed and watchful ph3'sician might have hope 
to cure you. Puit I know not what to say — the disease is 
what I seem to know, yet know it not. 

Dimmesdale. You speak in riddles, learned sir. 

CJiillin^wortJi. Then to speak more plainly, and I crave 
pardon, sir. for this needful plainness of my speech. Let 
me ask, — as your friend, — as one having charge, under 
Providence, of 3'our life and physical well-being, have all 
the operations of this disorder been fairly laid open and 
recounted to me? 

Dimmesdale. How can you question it? Surely it were 
child's play to call in a physician, and then hide the sore I 

Chillingzvorth. You would tell me, then, that I know all? 
(fixing his eyes integely on him,) Be it SO ! But again! a bod- 



22 The Scarlet Letter. 

ily disease, which we inay look upon as whole and entire 
within itself, may, after all, be but a symptom of some ail- 
ment in the spiritual part. Your pardon, once again, good 
sir, of all men whom I have known, you, sir, are he whose 
body is closest conjoined and imbued and identified, so to 
speak, with the spirit whereof it is the instrument. 

Dimmesdale. Then I need ask no further. You deal not, 
I take it, in medicine for the soul ! 

ChiUingwortk. (Looking him fall in the face.) Thus a sick- 
ness, — a sore place, — if we may so call it,— in 3'our spirit, 
hath immediately its appropriate manifestations in your 
bodily frame. Would you therefore, that your ph)'Sician 
heal the bodily evil? How may this be, unless you first 
lay open to him the trouble of your soul? 

Diunncsdalc (Passionately.) No! not to thee! Not to an 
earthly physician ! But if it be the soul's disease, then do 
I commit myself to the one physician of the soul! He, if 
it stand wnth his good pleasure, can cure, or he can kill ! 
Let him do with me as in his justice and wisdom he shall 
see fit. But who art thou (standing up at table.) that med- 
dlest in this matter? 1'hat darest thrust th^-self between 
the sufferer and his God? (Rushes off R. 1st E.) 

Chillingzvorth. (quietly looking after him.) It IS well to haye 
made this step. (Smiles.) There is nothing lost : \ve shall be 
friends anon. Hut see, now, how passion takes hold of this 
mau,tand hurrieth him out of himself! As with one pas- 
sion, so with another! He hath done a wild thing ere now, 
this pious Master Dimmesdale, in the hot passions of his 
heart ! A rare case ! I must needs look deeper into it. 
Were it only for the art's sake, I will search this matter to 
the bottom. Now for the m3'steries of this day's collection. 
(Goes to table at window and looks over the herbs and leaves.) These 
herbs have nothing to conceal ; their nature 3ields readily 
to the chemist's power, and all of good or bad can be ex- 
tracted for truth's sake. If some men's hearts could be as 
easily looked into, what frightful revelations would be 
given to the world ! (Close in.) 



TiiK Scarlet Lettkr. 23 

Scene Second, (In five.) 

The scene represents a cove or inlet in Boston harbor. The back-ground 
shows the sea-shore with waves in gentle motion, washing up upon 
the stage. A light, sunny sky. Time, afternoon. On the R. H. 
rocks and trees ; on the L. from 4 to 4 E, a small white cottage with 
a porch along its front, posts and overhanging shed, richly clustered 
with wild vines and flowers. An old-fashioned rocking chair on 
the porch. A toy cradle and a small chaii on the ground in front 
of the porch, Hester and Pearl enter from cottage down the steps. 

Hester. Now, my darling Pearl, you have learned well 
your lessons, and for this you shall have a nice pla}^ among 
the shells and sea-birds upon the sands in the sunlight of 
this beautiful day. — Hut, my darling, keep away from those 
rocks yonder ; the water is very deep there, and should 
you fall in, 1 would lose my little Pearl forever. 

Pearl, (goes to the margin of the water.) O mamma! look at 
this beautiful shell! — but yonder is a belter place. Come, 
come into the pool with me! (Runs ofT R, H, 4th E.) 

Hester. Ah ! dear child, all things are beautiful to you 
now. Trouble has not yet clouded your sunshine. But 
the storms of life await us all. (Comes down to C. opposite to 
Second Entrance, looks oiF L.) An my eyes deceive me not, 
that crooked and bending form, pulling up weeds and roots, 
is Roger Chillmgworth. How changed he is! Dare I 
but speak to him ! — he comes this way. Dare I but speak 
my mind ! (Retires and leans against the porch, Chillingworth en- 
ters, looking around for plants, stoops to pull some leaves at R, 2d E. 
Hester comes to C.) Roger Chillingworth, I would speak a 
word with you — a word that concerns us much. 

CJiillingivortJi. Aha! and is it Mistress Hester that has 
a word for old Roger Chillingworth ? — with all my heart. 
(Gets up and comes to C) Wh}^ Mistress, I hear good tidings 
of you on all hands. Great stories are told of your watch- 
ing and nursing of the poor and the sick, and no longer 
ago than yester-eve, a magistrate, a wise and godly man, 
was discoursing of your afifiairs, and whispered me that 
there had been question concerning you in the council. 
It was debated whether or no, with safety to the common 



24 The Scarlet Letter. 

weal, yonder Scarlet Letter mis^ht be taken off your bosom. 
On my life, Hester, I made my entreaty to the worshipful 
magistrates that it might be done forthwith. 

Hester. (After a pause.) It lies not in the pleasure of the 
magistrates to take off this badge. Were I worthy to be 
quit of it, it would fade away of its own nature, or be trans- 
formed into something that should speak a different pur- 
port. 

ChiUingxvortJi. Nay, then, wear it, if it suit you better. 
A woman must needs follow her own fancy touching the 
adornment of her own person. The letter is gayly em- 
broided, and shows right bravely on your bosom ! (Hester 
looks steadily at Chillingworth during this speech.) What see yOU 
in my face, that you look at it so earnestly ? 

Hester. Something that would make me weep, if there 
were any tears bitter enough for it. But let it pass I (Points 
off L. 1st E, where Dimmesdale is supposed to be standing.) It is of 
yonder miserable man that 1 would speak — Master Dim- 
mesdale, — who stands there, and has been walking with 
you. 

Chillingziorth. And what of him? Not to hide the truth, 
Mistress Hester, my thoughts just now happen to be busy 
with the gentleman, so speak freely, and I will make an- 
swer. 

Hester. When we last spake together, now seven years 
agone, it was your )«leasure to extort a promise of secrecy 
as touching the further relations betwixt yourself and me. 
As the life and good fame of yonder man were in your 
hands, there seemed no choice to me, save to be silent in 
accordance with your behest, yet it was not without heavy 
misgivings that I thus bound myself for having cast off all 
duty towards all other human beings. There remained a 
duty toward him ; and something whispered me that I 
was betraying it, in pledging myself to keep your counsel. 
Since that day no man is so near to him as you. You 
tread behind his every footstep, you are beside him sleep- 
ing and waking, you dwell under the same roof with him. 
you search his thoughts, you burrow and rankle in his 
heart! your clutch is on his life, and you cause him to die 



Tine ScAKLET Letter. 25 

daily a living death, and still he knows you not!^In per- 
mitting this, I have surely acted a false part by the only 
man to whom the power was left me to be true! 

Chillingzcortli. What choice had you ? My finger pointed 
at this man, would have hurled him from his pulpit into 
a dungeon, — thence peradventure to the gallows ! 

Hester. It had been better so ! 

Cliillingivorth. What evil have I done the man? I tell 
thee, Hester Prynne, the richest fee physician ever earned 
from monarch, could not have bought such a care, as I 
have wasted on this miserable priest ! But for my aid, his 
life would have burned away in torments within the first 
two years after the perpetration o{ Ids crime and thine, for, 
Hester, his spirit lacked the strength that could have borne 
up as thine has, beneath a burden like the Scarlet Letter. 
O, I could reveal a goodly secret ! But enough ! what art 
can do, I have exhausted on him. That he now breathes 
and creeps about on earth, is owing all to me I 

Hester. Better that he had died at once ! 

ChillingiuortJi. Yes, woman, thou sayest truly. Better 
he had died at once! Never did mortal suffer what this 
man has suffered, and all, all in the sight of his worst en- 
emy ! He knew that no friendly hand was pulling at his 
heart-strings, and that an eye was looking curiously into 
him which sought only evil, and found it. But he knew 
not that the eye and hand were mine ! He fancied himself 
given over to a fiend, as a foretaste of what awaits him 
beyond the grave. Yes, indeed ! he did not err ! There 
was a fiend at his elbow ! 

Hester. Hast thou not tortured him enough ? Has he 
not paid thee all ? 

Chillingzvorth. No! No! He has increased the debt. 
When 1 see myself as I was, and what I now am ! Dost 
thou remember me, Hester, as I was seven years agone? 
And although I was in the autumn of my years, yet no life 
had been more peaceful and innocent than mine. Dost 
thou remember me? Was T not, though you mightdeem 
me cold, a man thoughtful for others, craving little for my- 



26 Thk Scarlet Lktter. 

self, — kind, true, just, and of constant, if not warm affec- 
tion ? Was I not all these ? 

Hester. All these, and more. 

Chillingivorth. And what am I now ? A fiend! Who 
made me so? Who made me so? 

Hester. (Shuddering,) It was myself! It was I, not less 
than he. Why hast thou not revenged thyself on me? 

Chillingivorth. I have left thee to the Scarlet Letter. If 
that hath not avenged me, I can do no more ! 

Hester. It has avenged thee ! 

Chillingworth. I judge no less, and now what wouldst thou 
with me touching this man? 

Hester I must reveal the secret. (Firmlv.) 1 must dis- 
cover thee in thy true character. What may be the result 
I know not. But this long debt of confidence due from 
me to him, whose bane and ruin 1 have been, shall at length 
be paid. So far as concerns the overthrow or preservation 
of his fair fame and his earthly state, and perhaps his life, 
he is in thy hands ; nor do I, — whom the Scarlet Letter 
has disciplined to truth, though it be the truth of red-hot 
iron, entering into the soul, — perceive advantage in his 
living any longer a life of ghastly emptiness. I shall not 
stoop to implore thy mercy. Do with him as thou wilt ! 
There is no good for him, — no good for me, — no good for 
thee ! — there is no good for little Pearl. There is no good 
to guide us out of this dismal maze ! 

Chillingivorth. Woman, I could well nigh pity thee ! Thou 
hast great elements. — Hadst thou met earlier with a bet- 
ter love than mine, — Did I say a better love than mine? 
No! No! a younger love than mine.— this evil had not 
been. I pity thee, for the good that hath been wasted in 
thy nature ! 

Hester. And I thee, for the hatred that has transformed 
a wise and a just man into a fiend. Wilt thou yet purge 
it out of thee, and be once more human? If not for his 
sake, then doubly for thine own, forgive, and leave his fur- 
ther punishment to the power that claims it! 1 said but 
now that thpre could be no good event for him, or thee, 
or me, who are here wandering together in a gloomy 



The Scarlet Letter. 27 

world of evil, and stumbling at every step, over the guilt 
wherewith we have strewn our paths. Is it not so ? There 
might be good for thee alone, since thou hast been deeply 
wronged, and hast it at thy will to pardon. Wilt thou 
give up that only privilege? Wilt thou reject that price- 
less benefit? 

CJiillingivorth. Peace, Hester, peace ! It is not granted 
me to pardon. I have no such power as thou tellest me 
of. My old faith long forgotten comes back to me, and 
explains all that we do, and all that we suffer. By the 
first step awry, thou didst plant the germ of evil ; but, 
since that moment, it has all been a dark necessit}'. Ye 
that have wronged me, are not sinful, save in a kind of typ 
ical illusion ; neither am I fiend-like, who has snatched a 
fiend's office. It is our fate. Let the black flower blossom 
as it ma}^ i Now go thy ways, and deal as thou wilt with 
yonder man, and I will go mine. (Betakes himself again to look- 
ing for herbs, pulls some large leaves from the side of a rock at R. ist 
E. and exits. Hester contemplates him with wonderment.) 

Hester. (Looking after him.) Was that man ever my hus- 
band ? Is he the same that was? — Be it sin or not, I now 
hate thee ! But O my God ! what a change is wrought, 
what a contrast to those past days in that distant land of 
my birth when he used to emerge at eventide from the se- 
clusion of his study and sit down in the partial gloom of 
the day, and tell me he needed my smiles to extend the 
light and take the chill from around the scholar's heart. 
But, as now viewed through a dismal medium of a long 
past, I marvel that such scenes have been, and how I could 
have been wrought up to marry him. — It is my crime, that 
I even endured the lukewarm grasp of his hand, or suf- 
fered the smile of my lips and eyes to mingle with the 
weird and strange quality of his own. But what is my 
crime to his? My heart was young and the scholar's siren 
words captured my ear, and not my heart. He was full 
of years and wisdom, and betrayed me. But let the man 
be cautious who seeks to win the hand of a woman, unless 
he wins along with it the utmost love of her heart: with- 
out the love, it is but as the marble statue, the form with- 



28 TiTK Scarlet Lkttkr, 

out the warmth. — But this will not do, where's my little 
Pearl, (Retires up the stage and discovers Pearl oiF R. H. 3rd E.) 
There she stands, bedecking herself with sea-weeds, O my 
only bliss and burden! Pearl! Pearl! come hither child. 
(Hester conies down C, Pearl enters bedecked with sea-weeds, and 
the letter A, made ot sea-greens, fixed upon her bosom.) 

Pearl. I wonder if mother will ask me what this means. 
(Pearl stands in front of Hester, who observes the A on Pearl's bosom 
with astonishment.) 

Hfster. Why, Pearl, what have you got there? 

Pearl. The great letter A. 

Hester. But why dost thou wear it, child? 

Pearl. Because you wear it. What docs the Scarlet Let- 
ter mean, and why does the minister keep his hand over 
his heart ? 

Hester. O child, I wear it for the sake of the gold that 
is in the braid. 

Pearl. But why does the minister keep his hand over his 
heart ? 

Hester. Hush, Pearl, hush! — Listen to the waves, sing- 
ing on the beach. Come with me and I will tell you the 
sad story of the fairy and the deformed. (Exit into Cottage.) 



Scene Third. 

A thick, wild forest in I. Enter L. 1st E, Mistress Hibbins, Swamp- 
lily, Spear-head, Fleet-wing and Weeping willow. 

Ilibhins. Now for a night of joy and wild revelations, and 
I speak nt)t truth but ye shall see strange things. Come 
hither. (They all gather around at C. of stage.) As I wandered 
at midnight through the dark recesses of yonder gloomy 
and entangled wood where all fear the noxious bite of the 
snake, and the sharp teeth of the barking wolf, there alone, 
I encountered a four-legged thing with a human head and 
a tongue of fire that bade mc do this work to-night. You, 
Lily of the Swamp, (To Indian girl bedecked with large swamp- 
lilv leaves.) fl}' to those of your tribe that sport in the big 
waters and tell them to bring their offerings to the glen 
to-night, for when the 3-ellow moon sits like a centre jewel 



The Sc.\klet Letter. 29 

in the crown of heaven, the big caldron must be made to 
dance by the hot fire of the blazing faggot. Tell them to 
bring the blue and the black fish, or one so small that it 
were caught in a pond no bigger than a thumb's nail. 
Away! Away! (Quit exit L. ist E.) Spear-head! with all 
the sharpness of thy wits, hunt up thy little band that are 
out on the four-footed trail, and tell them not to fail to 
bring in the cunning fox ! Its haunches are fine pulling 
for teeth like thine, and it feeds the wits. — (Exit R, ist E.) 
And now, Fleet- wing, fly thou to th}' craft, and tell them 
to bring in the wild pigeon, the robin, the blue-jay, the cat- 
bird or the soft-singing, golden- winged oriole. Away ! 
Away! (Exit L. is,tE.) Weeping-willow! (To weeping-willow 
who is bedecked with twigs of willow.) Lay aside thy tears and 
for once forget your gallant lover who fell from the bow 
of the ship, and has the ocean for a great coffin. I say, 
forget thy lost lover. (Weeping-willow sighs.) A sigh, girl ? — 
pshaw ! There are other lovers to be found. I say, forget 
him, join in the mystic dance to-night ; get thee gone, and 
find my Night-bird, send the trusty boy hither. 1 have a 
message for Hester Prynne, and thou shalt see to-night 
the Scarlet Letter reflecting from her bosom a weird light, 
like the moon on the sickly swamp. 

Weeping-zvilloiu. Hester Prynne '\\\ the Glen! 

Hibbins. Yes, Hester Prynne ! Thou shalt see her in the 
glen to-night. Away! Away! (Exit R. ist E.) And indeed, 
Hester Prynne, I can serve thee now. Too bitterly hast 
thou paid for the error of an unthinking moment. For 
seven long years has the finger of shame marked thee for 
its own. Roger Chillingworth, I'll cross thy path yet, 
and, Master Dimmesdale, thou shalt smile once more. — 
(Whistle nithout.) Ah-ha! well does the whistle, made from 
the bone of the shrieking owl, tell me that my Night-bird 
comes. (Enter R. ist E, Night-bird running, bedecked with black 
plumes.) And I greet thee with a cookey. (Takes a cake from 
her pocket, and gives it to Night-bird.) Come now, a cake pleas- 
ant to thy tooth, and made by Fairy fingers who took the 
sweet from the golden hone3'-suckle that grew in the even- 
ing star. Fly now, quick as thy black wings can carry 



30 The Scarlet Letter. 

thee to the white cottage by the beach, and put this into 
the hands of the Scarlet Letter. (Gives him a letter.) An 
thou wouldst have sport to-night, fail not to do as I bid 
thee, and bring her to the glen. (Night-bird starts to go. Calls 
him back.) Stay ! Tell her, an she love Pearl, fail not to 
come! Away! Away! (Exit L. ist E.) Now for the glen, 
and the wonders I shall work before my people by bring- 
ing the Scarlet Letter into their midst. (Exit R. ist E.) 



Scene Fourth. 

A glen, full depth of the stage. Trees and wild vines overhanging 
embankments. The tiall moon is seen rising through the trees. 
In centre of the stage, a large caldron hanging from a tripod, with 
a blazing fire underneath. Groups of Indians and wild-looking 
white men and women, sitting around the stage, beating on Indian 
drums, Sec. &c., while others are dancing around the caldron in 
time to their music. The whole scene making a grand and wild 
picture. The working of the moon is to pass up the back flat and 
disappear overhead so as to bring the calcium light efFeds upon 
Hester and the group at the end of the scene. After dancing 
three times around the caldron, they stop, an opening is made in 
front of the circle. Spear-head jumps up and drops the haunches 
of a fox in the caldron. 

SfcarJicad. And this I bring, that's full of meat! 
llibbins. A fox, indeed, is rare and sweet ! 
tlcetzuing. And 1 these birds, all fresh and clean! 
Hibbins. The finest batch I have ever seen ! 
Szcainp-lily. And I these tish, the black and the blue! 
Hiblnns. Indeed a prize, well done for you ! 
Blighted-tntnk. And here are legs of toads and frogs, 
I caught but now in clumpy bogs! 
(Dance around the caldron while singing choruF.) 

Around, around the caldron fly. 

While vet the moon fills yonder sky; 

Stir well the soup; 

Beat hard the drums ; 

We'll have our sport till morn-light comes. 



The Scarlet Letter. 31 

Hibbins. (Sings.) 

O would I were the tempest-cloud, 

To sweep o'er earth with thunder loud ; 

I'd gather by night, I'd gather by day. 

The fruits in orchard, the fish in bay ; 

I'd gather the birds that floated high ; 

I'd pluck the stars from yonder sky, 

And here I'd bring the things you like, 

To feast with joy by day and night. 
Chorus. 

Around, around the caldron fly, 

While yet the moon fills yonder sky ; 

Stir well the soup ; 

Beat hard the drums ; 

We'll have our sport till morn-light comes. 
(Night-bird whistles without, as if in the distance.) 
Hibbins. Down, children, down ! (They all stoop down and 
diredl their attention to Hibbins.) Hear ye not the whistle 
of Night-bird ! (Whistle again, nearer.) Be Still as death. 
He brings one to our camp who has long been an outcast, 
and yet belongs not to our tribe. But ye shall hear me 
tell her such truths to-night as shall make her shake like 
the aspen, and look as pale as the will-o-the-wisp. We 
will )'et count among our band the names of the Scarlet 
Letter and little Pearl. (A loud whistle.) Back and down ! 
children, and move not until I speak! (They all retire up the 
stage, and lie down so as not to be discovered by Hester. Hibbing 
stands in C. of stage, leaning on her staff. Enter L. ist E, Night-bird 
who runs to Hibbins, and points off L. 1st E. She beckons him to re- 
tire up the stage. Enter Hester with little Pearl.) 

Hibbins. Aha! Mistress Hester, I am glad to see thee in 
the forest to-night. And, little Pearl, thou, too, art wel- 
come. They say, child, thou art the lineage of the prince 
of the air. Wilt thou ride with me some fine night to see 
thy father? then thou shalt know wherefore the minister 
keeps his hand over his heart. (Hester starts.) 

Hester. Woman, I know not what you say. What words 
have you for me? 
Hibbins. (Aside to Hester.) Know not what I spake ? It is 



32 The Scarlet Letter. 

not for me to talk lightly of a learned and pious minister, 
like the Rev. Dimmesdale. 

Hester. Thou knowest naught. 

Hibbins. Fie, woman, fie ! ha ! ha ! ha ! ha ! Dost thou 
think I have no memory. Thinks thou, I have forgotten 
the night of vigil, when one saintly man stood amid the 
glare of lightning, upon the platform in the market-place, 
and his wild laugh brought two others who stood there 
with him ! I can tell a rose from a thistle even in the 
dark ! — Hold down thy ear, and let me whisper a word. 
(She whispers in Hester^'s ear. Hester starts.) 

Hester. Come, Pearl, come ! let us fly from here. 

Hibbins. Sta}', Hester. It was not for these words I sent 
for thee. Look to little Pearl! The wolves of the law 
would take thy treasure from thee. Even now while yon- 
der moon throws its silver rays across the door-way of 
Governor Bellingham, there sit in council men, who on the 
morrow will meet again to take from thee thy little Pearl. 
(Hester shrieks, falls upon her knees, and clasps Pearl.) Look tO it, 
Hester Prynne. Be thou there, or Pearl is lost forever! 
Behold, my people, how much the Scarlet Letter feels the 
truth of your witch-queen I 

Picture, They all rush forward at the word " Behold," and form a 
half circle about Hester, pointing at the Scarlet Letter on her bosom. 
The moon-light falls on Hester and Pearl. Hibbins and all, as the 
curtain descends, exclaim " The Scarlet Letter !" 
End Second Ad. 



ACT III. 

Scene First. 

A large hall in the mansion of Governor Bellingham. Old portraits 
hanging on the wall. A table at R. 2d E, with helmet, breast- 
plate and sword on it. At R. C, a large table with books, pens, 
ink-stand, &c., &c. Bellingham discovered at head of the table, 
Dimmesdale R. of table, front, Chillingworth L. of table, front. 
Master Wilson R. of table, above Dimmesdale. 

Bellingham. Were it not well that we take this child and 
place her under such instructions as would make her moth- 
er's fatal badge a terror ? I admire not the way she adorns 
the child. 1 profess I have never seen the like since my 
days of vanity in old King James' time, when I was wont 
to esteem it a high favor to be admitted to a court-mask. 
There used to be a swarm of those small apparitions in 
holiday times, and we called them the children of the 
Lord of Mis-rule. 

Wilson. Ah, indeed, what a little bird of scarlet plumage 
is she ! Methinks I have seen just such figures when the 
sun has been shining on a richly-painted window, and 
throwing its brilliant rays across the figure of some beau- 
tiful child. It was but the other day I met this Pearl, as 
she is called, with her mother, and asked her name, to 
which the little prattler replied, that she was a rose her 
mother had plucked from the bush that grew beside the 
old prison door. This shows a wrong bringing up, and 
that she is a stranger to proper instructions. (Enter servant 
L. F. E.) 

So'vaut. Your worship, one Hester Pr3nne would speak 
a word with you. 

Bellingham. Admit her. (Exit servant.) She comes oppor- 
tune. She is here, and with her little Pearl. (Enter Hester 
with Peail L. F. E.) Hester Prynne, there has been much 
question concerning thee of late. The point hath been 
discussed whether we that are of authority, do well dis- 
charge our conscience by trusting an immortal soul, such 
as there is in 3'onder child, to the guidance of one who has 



34 The Scarlet Letter. 

stumbled amid the pit-falls of this world. Were it not 
wise, think 3'ou, that she be taken out of your charge, and 
instructed in the truths of heaven and earth ? 

Hester. (Standing with Pearl, L. C.) 1 teach my little Pearl 
what I have learned from this. (Laying her finger on Scarlet 
Letter.) 

Bellingham. Woman, it is thy badge of shame. It is be- 
cause of the stain, which that letter indicates, that we 
would transfer the child to other hands. 

Hester. Nevertheless, this badge hath taught me, — it 
daily teaches me, — it teaches me at this moment, — lessons 
whereby my child may be the better and wiser. 

Bellingham. We will look well at what we are about to 
do. Good master Wilson, what think you, hath this child 
such Christian nurture as befits one of her age? 

Wilson. I fear not, unless the mother bestows as much 
care upon the child's moral instructions as she does upon 
her dress. I much fear you have not instructed the child 
in those heavenly truths which the human spirit at her 
tender years should be well imbued with. As you bend 
the twig, so the tree will grow. Dress the child in the 
garb of vanity, and you make a vain woman. Vanity 
loves flattery, by which many are fascinated from the ways 
of truth, and are lost to God. Hester, that child must be 
taken from your hands, and placed in those who will bring 
her vp in the ways of righteousness ! 

(Pearl clings to her mother. Hester advances with firm step toward 
Wilson, and with great emotion looks him in the face.) 

Hester. (After a pause.) God gave me this child ! He gave 
her in requital of all things else which ye have taken from 
me. She is my happiness! — She is my torture, none the 
less. Pearl keeps me here in life ! Pearl punishes me too ! 
See ye not, she is the Scarlet Letter, only capable of be- 
ing loved, and so endowed with a million-fold power of 
retribution for my sin?— God gave her to me, and ye shall 
not take her from me ! I will die first ! 

Wilson. My poor woman, the child shall be well cared 
for! — far better than thou canst. 

Hester. God gave her into my keeping! (Raising her voice 



The Scaklet Letter. 35 

almost to a shriek.) I will not give her up ! Speak thou lor 
me ! (TMrning to Dinunesdale.) Speak thoLi tor me. Thou 
wast my pastor, and hadst charge of my soul, and know est 
me better than these men can. I will not lose my child ! 
Speak tor me! Thou knowest ! — tor thou hast sympa- 
thies which these men lack!— Thou knowest what is in 
my heart, and what are a mother's rights, and how much 
the stronger they are when that mother has but her child 
and the Scarlet Letter ! — Look thou to it, I will not lose 
the child ! Look to it ! Without her love, I would be alone 
in this dark world ; without this soul-treasure there would 
be nothing to keep my heart alive ; my little sun-shine 
would be gone ! In her I have indefeasible rights against 
the world, and in the sight of God, I will defend them ! 

Look to it ! Look to it ! (She kneels and rapturously kisses Pearl.) 
Dlinniesdalc. (Rises with emotion, and with his hand over his 
heart. Chillingworth intently watches the face ot Diminesdale all 
through the scene.) There is much truth in what she says. 
God g-ave her the child, and gave her, too, an instinctive 
knowledge of its nature and requirements, both seemingly 
so peculiar, — which no other mortal being can possess, 
and is there not a quality of awful sacredness in the re- 
lation between this mother and this child? 

Bdlinpjiam. Ah ! How is that, good Master Dimmesdale? 
Make that plain, I pray you ! 

Diminesdale. it must be even so, for if we deem other- 
wise, do we not thereby say that the Heavenly Father 
hath lightly recognized a deed of sin, and made of no ac- 
count the distinction between an unhallowed lust and a 
holy love? This child, of its father's guilt and its mother's 
shame, hath come from the hand of God, to work in many 
ways upon her heart, who pleads so earnestly and with 
such bitterness of spirit. The right to keep her was meant 
for the one blessing of her life! It was meant, doubtless, 
as the mother herself has told us, for a retribution too; a 
torture to be felt at many an unthought-of moment; a 
pang, a sting, an ever-recurring agony, in the midst of a 
troubled joy. Hath she not expressed the thought in the 



36 The Scaulkt Lettp:r. 

garb of the child, so forcibly reminding iis of that red 
symbol which sears her bosom ? 

Wilson. Master Dimmesdale, I feared the mother had no 
better thought than to make a mountebank of the child ! 

Diiuincsdalc. (with eagerness.) O not so ! — not SO ! She I'e- 
cognizes, believe me, the solemn miracle which God hath 
wrought, in the existence of that child, — and may she not 
feel, too, that this boon was meant above all things else, to 
keep the mother's soul alive, and to preserve her from 
other sin, — to remind her at every moment of her fall, — 
a sacred pledge, that, if she bring the child* to heaven, the 
child also will bring its parent thither ! Herein is the sin- 
ful mother far happier than the father. (Hester listens with 
marked attention.) For Hester's sake, let us leave them as 
Providence hath seen ht to place them. (Sits.) 

Chilliiigi^'or/h. You speak, my friend, with a strange earn- 
estness, and I must say with great truth as to the father. 

Wiison. There is weight}^ import in what my young 
brother hath spoken. What say you, worshipful Master 
Bellingham ? Had we not better let Hester take the child 
for the present? And with a watchful eye we can tell how 
the mother treasures her future. 

Bellingham.. T think so. He hath adduced such argu- 
ments, that we will even leave the matter as it now stands; 
so long, at least, as there shall be no further scandal in the 
woman. Thou canst depart, and with thee thy child, — 
but have a care, for should we observe, as she grows apace, 
a lack of any kind, she will stay no longer in thy custody. 
Go thy ways. (Hester stoops down and kisses Pearl. Pearl runs to 
the Governor, and kisses his hand. Exit Hester with Pearl L. F. E.) 
The little baggage hath witchcraft in her. I profess she 
needs no old woman's broom-stick to fly withal. 

Cliillivgzvorth. A strange child ! Would it be beyond a 
philosopher's research, think ye, gentlemen, to analyze that 
child's nature, and, from its make, find the mould, to give 
a shrewd guess as to who the father is? 

Wilson. Nay ; It would be sinful, in such a question, to 
follow the clue of profane philosoph}-, and still better, it 
may be, to leave the mystery as we find it. 



The Scarlet Letter. 37 

Bellingham. And thereby every good Christian man hath 
a title to show a father's kindness toward the poor, de- 
serted babe. (Governor rises.) Gentlemen, for awhile 1 have 
business of importance with Master Wilson. (Exit Governor 
and Wilson R. F. E.) 

Chillingworth. Good Master Dimmesdale, you seem much 
moved in this woman's behalf. 

Dinwicsdalc. Not more than I should in any woman so 
situated. (Rising.) But, my dear sir, 1 must depart to visit 
the apostle Eliot among his Indian converts. The day 
advances, and I must haste away ere it be too late. (Exit R. 
E. E. Chillingworth for a moment looks after him.) 

Chillingzcorth. Ay, indeed ! haste thee from a subject thou 
wilt not tarry with. But thou shalt be known ! Thou 
shalt be known ! (Exit R. F. E.) 

(Hibbins comes from behind the drapery of one of the windows in 
flat, where she has been concealed during the whole scene. Her dress 
is th=it of Mistress Hibbins.) 

Hibbins. So, So! Hester, 1 have done thee a service, and 
he has saved your child. Hester, I will have thee yet one 
of our tribe. Now to see what she thinks of the grood 
work I have done ! (Exit R. F. E.) 



Scene Second. (In one.) 

A thick sapling-wood, running in perspedlive with a bit of land-scape 
to the right. Enter Hester with Pearl L. F. E. 

Hester. This way, Pearl. We will wander a while in yon- 
der thick and beautiful grove where so many wild flowers 
congregate to gladden my sad heart, and to please your 
young eyes. There, where I have so often sent m}^ pray- 
ers to heaven, will I now lift my voice again to the great 
Father of mercy, who has this day saved for me my dar- 
ling Pearl. To have lost thee, would have killed all the 
flowers, stayed the songs of the birds, the sweet whisper- 
ings of the brooks, and hung the heavens with a pall, — 
all would have been a suffocating void ! God, I thank thee 
for my little Pearl ! (Stoops to kiss Pearl, while so doing, Hibbins 



38 The Scarlet Lettku. 

enters as the witch, L. F. E. Stands leaning over Hester, with staff 
in hand.) 

Hibhins. So, Hester, in tears of thankfulness ! (Hester starts 
and looks up at Hibbins.) Fear not, 'tis only me, a better 
friend, too, than thou thinkest. Spoke I not the truth, 
and cautioned thee aright? Thy presence saved Pearl, 
and bravely didst thou stand up for thy own ! 

Hester. (Rises.) Indeed thou hast served me well, and my 
heart thanks thee for it. (Crosses to L. H.) 

Htbbins. (Following her.) Hist! Hist! Wilt thou go with 
me to-night? There will be merry company in the forest, 
and I well-nigh promised the Black-man that comely Hes- 
ter Pr3'nne should make one of the merry group. 

Hester. Make my excuse to him, so please you. I must 
tarry at home, and keep watch over my little Pearl. Had 
they taken her from me, I would willingly have gone with 
thee into the forest, and signed my name in the Black- 
man's book, and that, too, with mine own blood ! 

Hibbins. Ah ! Hester, we shall have thee there anon | 
It is the only way to save thy jewel there. (Pointing to Pearl.) 
For those busy and ravenous wolves of the law will pes- 
ter 3'ou to the last- Ay, in faith, they would save the 
child, as they call it, but kill the mother of a broken heart — 
ha! ha! ha! (Looking off left, sees Dimmesdale. Aside.) An my 
eyes deceive me not, that is Master Dimmesdale, return- 
ing fi*om the Apostle Eliot. I would cross his path and 
whisper a word in his ear. Hester, you will yet be one 
of us, and thy little Pearl too. (Exit L.) 

Hester. (Looking after her.) ^Dimmesdale ! Oh! fate! if I 
could but stand in his way and speak a word with him ! I 
will! This way, Pearl, this way ! (Exit L.) 



Scene Third. (In three.) 

A beautiful wild grove. Rock at R. C, for a seat, with bush and vines 
behind it, — a hiding-place for Chillingworth. In centre of the 
stage, opposite to 3, a large tree, running up out of sight, con- 
venient to conceal the form of Hibbins. Chillingworth discovered 
plucking leaves and plants at rock R. C. 



TuK Scarlet Lkttkr. 39 

Chillingzijorth. Thus from day to day I seek companion- 
ship, and my only pleasure, in plucking- these strange plants 
that abound hereabouts. I never dreamed of such a life 
as this. I thought to have had another sphere than a wil- 
derness for my old age to wander through. I thought to 
have had a companion, and not to live so much alone, but 
the unsearchable ways of God have interfered and de- 
prived me of her whom my heart had singled out for com- 
fort. It matters not how hard we may strive, or how sa- 
cred the object we desire to obtain, an inscrutable power 
thrusts it aside, and we are forced to struggle in other di- 
rections, and for things we never thought of. But why 
should I talk of this? There is and can be but one mission 
now for me to struggle with ; my beard has become gray 
with it! my form is bent with it! He must be known. 
He must be known ! Who comes here? (LookingofFL. 2d £.) 
Hester and Pearl. (Turns to R. F. E. and sees Dimmesdale.) 
And Dimmesdale! So, So! I will ensconce me here 

awhile, and observe. (Gets behind the rock R. C. Enter Hester 
and Pearl L. F. E.) 

Hester There, go yonder, (Pointing off R. 2d E.) where 
the sun is shining on that bit of beautiful meadow ; gather 
the wild flowers, and when I call you, come. (Exit Pearl R. 
2d E.) He comes. (Stands a little up the stage C. Enter Dim- 
mesdale L. H. F. E, crosses toward R. F.E.) Arthur Dimmesdale! 
Arthur Dimmesdale ! 

Dimmesdale. (R. H.) Who speaks? (Hester comes down F.) 
Hester Prynne, is it thou ? 

Hester. Even so, if I am in life, and if it be life as 1 have 
lived these seven years ! 

Diimnesdale . Hast thou found no peace ? 

Hester. None! Hast thou ? 

Dimmesdale. Nothing but misery ! • 

Hester. Thou wrong'st thyself in this. Thou hast deep- 
ly repented. The people reverence thee, and surely thou 
workest good among them ! Doth this bring thee no 
comfort? 

Dimmesdale. More misery, Hester! Only the more mis- 
ery ! As concerns the good I may appear to do, I have 



40 The Scarlet Letter. 

no faith in it. It must needs be a delusion. What can a 
ruined soul like mine effect towards the redemption of 
other souls? And as for the people's reverence, would 
that it were turned to scorn and hatred ! Canst thou deem 
it a consolation, that I must stand up in my pulpit, and 
meet so many eyes turned upward to my face, as if the 
light of Heaven were beaming- from it, and see my flock 
listening to me as if a tongue of Pentecost were speaking? 
I have laughed, in bitterness and agony of heart, at the 
contrast of what I am ! And Satan laughs at it ! 

Hester. Thou wrong'st th3-self. Is there no reality in 
the penitence thus sealed and witnessed by good works? 

Dimniesdale. There is no substance in it ! It is cold and 
dead, and can do nothing fur me! Of penance, I have 
had enough ! Of penitence, there has been none ; else I 
should long since have thrown off these garments of mock 
holiness, and have shown myself to mankind as they will 
see me at the judgment-seat. Happy are you, Hester 
Prynne, that wear the Scarlet Letter openly upon your 
bosom ! Mine burns in secret ! Thou little knowest what 
a relief it is, after the torments of seven years' cheat, to 
look into an eye that recognises me for what I am ! Oh ! 
had I but one friend, or even an enemy, to whom I could 
betake myself, and be known as the vilest of sinners. Even 
thus much truth would save me, for now all is falsehood 
and emptiness ! 

Hester. Such a friend as thou hast even now wished for, 
with whom to weep over thy sin, thou hast in me, the 
partner of it! — (Hesitating.) Thou hast long had such an 
enemy, — and dwellest with him, — under the same roof! 

Dimniesdale. Ha ! what sayest thou, an enemy ! and under 
mine roof ! What sayest thou ? 

Hester. Oh, Arthur forgive me! In all things else I 
have striven to be true ! Truth was the one virtue which 
I might have held fast, and did hold fast through all ex- 
tremity ; save when thy good,— thy life, — thy fame, were 
put in question ! Then I consented to a deception. But 
a lie is never good, even though death threaten on the 
other side! Dost thou not see what I would say? — That 



The Scaklet Letter. 41 

old man! — Thy physician! — he whom they call Eoger 
Chillingworth ! — he was — my husband ! 

Dimviesdale. Merciful God! (Staggers and sinks down upon the 
rock at R.) I might have known it ! I did know it! Oh ! 
Hester, thou little knowest the horror and ugliness of this 
exposure of a guilty heart to the ver}' eyes that would 
gloat over it! Woman, 1 can never forgive thee ! 

Hester. But thou wilt forgive me! (Falls upon her knees be- 
side him.) Here at thy feet thou shalt forgive me ! Let 
God punish! but, Arthur, thou must forgive me! 

Diiiiiiiesdale. Hester, I do forgive thee, and may God for- 
give us both ! We are not the worst sinners in this world. 
There is one worse even than the polluted priest! The 
old man's revenge has been blacker than my sin. He has 
violated in cold bhjod, the sanctity of a human heart. But 
here is a new horror for me. Will Chillingworth keep 
my secret? 

Hester. There is a strange secrecy in his nature that has 
grown upon him by the hidden practices of his revenge. 
He will doubtless seek other means of satiating his dark 
passion. 

Dimmesdale. How am I to dwell longer with this deadly 
enemy? Think for me, Hester! Thou art strong. Re- 
solve for me ! 

Hester. Thou must dwell no longer with this man. Thy 
heart must be no longer under his evil eye! 

Dhnmesdalc. It were worse than death ! — But how to 
avoid it ! 

Hester. Is the world then so narrow ? Doth the uni- 
verse lie within the compass of yonder town, which only a 
little time ago was but a leaf-strewn desert, as lonely as this 
around us? Whither leads yonder forest-track? Back- 
ward to the settlement, thou sayest? Yes; but onward 
too ! Deeper it goes, and deeper, into the wilderness, less 
plainly to be seen at every step ; until some few miles 
hence, the yellow leaves will show no vestige of the white 
man's tread. There thou art free ! So brief a journey 
would bring thee from a world where thou hast been most 
wretched, to where thou mayest be most happy ! Is there 



42 The 8oarlkt Lkttkk. 

not shade enough in all this boundless forest to hide thy 
heart from the gaze of Rog-er Chillingworth ? 

Chillingzvorth. (Looking from beliind the rocks.) Indeed there 
is not ! (Aside.) 

DiniDicsddle. Yes, Hester, but only under the fallen leaves ! 

ClnUiiigworiJi. Even there I'll see thee I (Aside.) 

Hester. Then there is the broad pathway of the sea! It 
brought thee hither. It thou so choose, it will bear thee 
back again. In our native land, whether in some remote 
village, or in vast London, — or, surelv in Germany, in 
France, in pleasant Italy, thou wouldst be beyond his 
power and knowledge! And what hast thou to do with 
all these iron men, and their opinions? They have kept 
thy better part in bondage too long already ! 

Dimmesdale. Hester, it cannot be ! 

Hester. Thou art crushed under this seven vear's weight 
of misery, — but thou shalt leave it all behind thee! It 
shall not cumber thy steps, as thou treadest along the for- 
est-[)ath, neither shalt thou freight the shij) with it, it thou 
prefer to cross the sea. Leave this wreck and ruin where 
it happened? There is good to be done! Begin the 
workl anew ! the future is lull of trial and success ! There 
is happiness beyond. Be a scholar and a sage among the 
wisest! Preach! Write! Act! Do anything save to 
lie down and die ! Give up the name of Arthur Dimmes- 
dale, juul make thvsclf another. Whv shouldst thou tarry 
one other day in the torments that have so gnawed into 
thy life! — that have made thee feeble to ti-/// and io do\ 
That will leave thee powerless even to repent! Up and 
away ! 

DimviesdaU. Alone, Hester? 

Hester. Thou shalt not go alone! I, too, would pluck 
this sad symbol from my person ! The ship even now lies 
in yonder waters, and ere to-morrow's eve, sets her white 
sails, which shall be as angel's wings bearing us to a place 
of bliss. Look not back! Oh! look not back! that way 
lies darkness and death! Pearl! Pearl! Thou shalt see 
and know our little Pearl! This way. Pearl ! (Enter Pearl 
running. Hester hastily phices her upon her knees, who dings around 



Thk Scarlkt Lettkk. 



43 



the legs of Dimmesdale looking up into his face.) See, Pearl, the 
minister! He shall be thy father! Arthur, see and love 
her as thine ! 

Picture, (Dimmesdale takes up Pearl and kisses her, sits her down — 
places his hand upon her head, drops upon his knees embracing the 
child. Hester stands behind them with her hands extended over 
them in the aft of blessing.) 

Hester. Bless them, God! Oh, bless them ! (At this mo- 
ment Chillingworth looks from behind the rock, while Hibbins comes 
from behind the tree, and cautiously observes the situation. She then 
makes her exit L. 3rd E. During the latter part of the scene, the sun 
has made its descent on the back flat, and from the horizon throws its 
crimson rays through the woods, illuminating the stage with a crimson 
glow. Music, Curtain.) 



ACT IV. 

Scene First. (In one.) 

A room in Dimmesdale's house. Dimmesdale enters C. D. 

Diwmesdale. A night of wild and mixed thoughts have 
preluded the difficult task I must perform to-day. Since 
I parted with Hester, an over-active brain has presented 
temptations never before mine. Sin-stained and sorrow- 
eaten, I flung myself upon the forest leaves, and arose as 
it w^ere at the entrance of a new life ! — This is my last day 
in Boston, and the last sermon I shall ever preach. — (Enter 
Hibbins L. E, dressed in a rich velvet gown, high head-dress and yel- 
low, starched rufF of the times.) 

Hibbins. A bright morning, good Reverend Master Dim- 
mesdale, and a prosperous end to your work of to-day. 
The people are all astir. They expect great things in your 
Election sermon. But, indeed, methinks you look brighter 
for your visit to the forest last night. The next time you 
go, I pray you to allow me only a fair warning, and I shall 
be proud to bear you company. Without taking too 
much upon myself, my word will go far toward gaining 
a quick reception with a certain fair one. 

Dimmesdale. I profess, madame, on my conscience I am 
utterly bewildered as touching the purport of your words ! 
I went not into the forest to seek a fair one, neither do I 
at any future time design to visit thither. My one suffi- 
cient object was to greet that pious friend of mine, the 
Apostle Eliot, and rejoice with him over the many souls 
he hath won from heathendom ! 

Hib/nns. Ha! ha! ha! — well — well, we must needs talk 
thus in the day-time! Ha! ha! ha! you carry it off like 
an old hand. But, my reverend Sir ! be not too sure of 
the morrow ! We may yet meet in the forest with mutual 
understanding. Well, and heaven be with thee, may this 
day's work end as thou designest. Keep a stout heart, 
and perhaps a white signal may wave to thee as a friendly 



The Scaklet Lp:ttek. 45 

parting. A stout heart, Master Dimmesdale, and success! 
(Exit L.) 

Dimmesdale. Have I then sold myself to the fiend, whom, 
if men say true, this yellow-starched and velvety old hag 
has chosen for her prince. What is she that haunts me 
thus, and tells me of things, 1 thought that none but one 
other knew of. Am I mad I (A knock at C. D.) Come in! 
(Enter Chillingworth.) 

Chillingtvorth. Welcome home, Reverend Sir, and how 
found you that godly man, the Apostle Eliot? But, me- 
thinks dear sir, you look pale ; as if the travel through the 
wilderness had been too sore for you. Will not my aid 
be required to put you in heart and strength to preach 
your Election sermon? 

Dimmesdale. Nay. I think not so, my journey yonder 
and the breathing of the free air has done me good. 1 
think to need no more of your drugs, good though they 
be, and administered b}' a friendly hand. 

ChilhngiL'orth. Veril}', dear sir, we must make youstrong, 
for on this occasion you have an extra task to perform. 
The people look for great things, and apprehend that an- 
other year may come about and find their pastor gone. 

Dimmesdale, Kind sir, my present frame of body needs 
not your aid. 

Chillingivorth. I joy to hear it ! It may be that my reme- 
dies so long administered, begin now to make due effect. 
Happy man were I, and well deserving of New-England's 
gratitude, could I achieve your cure! 

Dimmesdale. I thank 3'ou, inost ivatcJiful friend., and can 
but requite your good deeds with m}' prayers. 

Chillingzuorth. A good man's prayers are a golden recom- 
pense. 

Dimmesdale. They are the current gold coin of the new 
Jerusalem, with the King's own mint mark on them ! 

Chillingworth. A good man's prayers. 

Dimmesdale. 1 meant so. 

Chillingxvorth. A man without deceit, one whose life is 
not a lie, and who is what he seems. 

Dimmesdale. There are such. (Turns away.) 



46 The Scarlet Lktter. 

Ckillingworth. He blanches and turns away. (Aside.) This 
is a busy day with thee, and I will not rob thee of time. 
I will leave thee to thy thoughts. Heaven may see fit to 
transmit through the good man's mouth the grand and 
solemn music of its oracles! I humbly take my leave, 
Master Dimtnesdale. (Bows very low. Exit C. D.) 

Dimmesdale. The hour is not far distant when I shall be 
separated eternally from thee. There is a strange and 
solemn beating about my heart, that fills me with dark 
foretellings, — a whispering that I shall not go ! These 
thoughts will never do! I must not clog up my path to 
the result with frightful phantoms born of an over-wrought 
brain. The task must be performed, and the swelling bil- 
lows of the ocean to-night must cradle my brain to a rest- 
ful sleep.— (Exit R. F. E.) 



Scene Two. 
Market-Place. 

The same as the second scene in the first ad. Flags, banners, and stream- 
ers are hanging in all diredions across the top of the stage, and 
from the windows of the buildings, in celebration of EledVion-day. 
Crowds of all kinds of people fill the stage. Two men in armor 
are fencing, upon the platform of the pillory. Indian boys are 
sho,oting at a target with bows and arrows. At R. C, below the 
City Hall, is a large Punch and Judy Box at work, with a group 
of men, women, and children laughing at the performance. At 
left C, above 2d E, are two Indians tussling. The laughing, fen- 
cing, and tussling continue in adion for a few minutes after the 
curtain is up. All of the charafters are kept in adion during the 
rest of the scene, without interfering with the dialogue. Chilling- 
worth discovered leaning against one of the columns of the City 
Hall. Hester enters with Pearl, from L. H. 3rd E, and comes 
down to C. 

Pearl. Why, mother, what is this? Is it a play-day for 
the whole world? See there is the blacksmith with a 
clean face, and little Sue has shoes on. Do tell me, what 
is to-day ? 

Hester. This is a Holiday. The people wait to see the 



Tup: Scarlet Letter. 47 

procession with the Governor, the great folks and soldiers 
with music at their head, who will all go into the Town 
Hall to hear the minister preach his Election sermon. 

Pearl. And will the minister hold out both hands to take 
me, and kiss me as he did in the forest? 

Hester. He will see thee, my child, but he will not take 
thee as in the forest, nor must thou greet him as he passes 
by. There, look about at the strange sights, but go not 
far. (Pearl wanders about the stage. The crowd call attention to Pearl 
and her dress. Enter L. U. E, Capt. Goodwill who appears to be 
looking about for Hester, who stands L. C. in a thoughtful mood.) 

Goodwill. So, Mistress Hester, I have found thee at last. 
I would say to thee, aboard by five o'clock at latest. We 
shall have other company, and hereabouts I would find 
m)' new passenger to give him the same tidings. (Chilling- 
worth observes Goodwill talking to Hester. He looks at Hester with 
a sarcastic smile.) No fear of scurvy, or ship-fever this voy- 
age, what with the ship's surgeon and this other doctor, 
our only danger will be from drugs, 

Hester. (Startled.) What mean you? Who is this other 
passenger ? 

Goodicill. Why know you not, that this Master Chilling- 
worth, — he calls himself, — is minded to try a cabin-fare 
with you ? Ay — Ay, you must have known it, for he tells 
me he is of your party, and a close friend to the gentle- 
man that is in peril from sickness. — Why, there stands the 
old doctor himself, smiling at us. (Points at Chillingworth, who 
looks at Hester. She casts a quick glance at Chillingworth, staggers 
backward, and is saved from falling by Goodwill.) 

Goodwill. Why, my lady, are you not well ? Shall I call 
the old doctor? 

Hester. No ! no ! tis nothing, — a little dizziness, — a 
habit, — 'tis over. — Yes, they know each other well indeed! 
(Music without.) I must look after my little Pearl, and anon 
we will speak further of this matter. (Goodwill retires. Pearl 
comes to Hester, who stands L. C. Procession enters L. F. E. headed 
by Brackett with staff of office, next band of music, followed by 
twelve men in armor, next the Governor and Officers of State followed 
by Dimmesdale alone; after him, Wilson, and several others in minis- 



48 TiiK Scarlet Lettkr. 

terial gowns, other soldiers, &c., &c. The procession passes into the 
City Hall, followed by all the people. The twelve men in armor ar* 
range themselves each side of the City Hall, and each side of the Pil- 
lory. Chillingworth and Goodwill enter the City Hall last. Hesicr 
with Pearl remain in abstradion at L. C. Hibbins who, disguised, has 
been moving around the stage during the whole of the scene, watching 
Hester and Chillingworth, now enters L. 2d E, dressed in her rich 
gown of velvet, &c.) 

Hihhins. Ha! ha! Mistress Hester, a great day for the 
City of Boston. Town and country all here. The red 
heathen and the white Christian all mingle together. But 
what morti'il imagination could conceive it ! that 3'onder 
Divine man, that saint on earth, as the people uphold him 
to be, and, 1 must needs say, reall}' looks! who now that 
saw him pass, would think how little time it is since he 
went forth out of his study, — chewing a Hebrew text of 
scripture in his mouth, I warrant, — to take an airing in 
the forest! Aha! we know what that means, Hester 
Prynne ! 

Hester. Well.— 

Hibbins. But truly, forsooth, I find it hard to believe him 
the same man. Many a church member, too, I saw but 
now walking behind the music, that has danced in the 
same measure with me, and it might be an Indian, or a 
Lapland wizard changing hands with us ! But that is a tri- 
fle, when one knows the world ; yet this minister! couldst 
thou surely tell, Hester, whether he is the same man that 
encountered thee on the forest-path ? 

Hester. Insolent meddler! What is it to thee? I tell 
thee, audacious woman, that yonder scaffold will never 
more fitly have its own 'till you stand there an example of 
your dark ways! — Begone! 

Hibbins. Fie, woman, fie ! Dost thou think I have been 
to the forest so man}' times, and have 3'et no skill to judge 
who else has been there ? Yes ; though no leaf of the wild 
garlands they wore, be left behind ! I know thee, Hester, 
for I behold the token we may all see in the sunshine, and 
it glows like a red flame in the dark ! Thou wearest it 
openly. But this minister! what is it, he seeks to hide 
with his hand always over his heart ? Ah ! Hester Prynne ! 



The Scarlet Letter. 49 

Hester. Old woman ! the dirt on yonder minister's shoes 
is cleaner than thy soul ! — ( A shout of " Make room, make room !" 
is heard within the Hall. The people rush from the Hall to left side 
of the stage shouting, " The minister is dying !" Hester shrieks, and 
with Pearl staggers up to the left side of the pillory steps. Enter from the 
Hall, Dimmesdale, supported by Bellingham, follovved by Chillingworth. 
Dimmesdale staggers to the steps of the pillory where he sees Hester, 
grasps her hand.) 

Dimmesdale. Hester, come hither ! Come, my little Pearl ! 

CJiillingtvorth. Madman, hold ! Do not perish in dis- 
honor! — 

Dimmesdale. Thou art too late. With the help of God, 
mine is the power to reveal the truth ! Come, Hester ! 
Come ! (Dimmesdale, Hester and Pearl ascend the scaffold.) Peo- 
ple of New-England ! ye that have loved me, ye that 
have deemed me holy ! Behold the one sinner ! At last 
I stand, where seven years since I should have stood, be- 
side this woman. Lo, the Scarlet Letter that Hester 
wears, is also mine! Our souls are equally bound up in 
it! — Behold! (Throws open his dress and exposes a Scarlet Letter 
upon his heart. The crowd shrink back in amazement, all exclaiming 
as in one voice, " The Scarlet Letter ! " Dimmesdale then staggers 
down the scaffold, followed by Hester and Pearl. He falls F. C, sup- 
ported by Hester, Pearl at left of Hester.) Is this not better than 
what we dreamed of in the forest? 

Hester. I know not! I know not! Better? — Yes; so 
we may die, and with us, little Pearl ! 

Chillingworth, (R. of Dimmesdale.) Thou hast escaped me! 
But thou art known ! 

Dimmesdale. Thou, too, hast deeply sinned. May God 
forgive thee! (Falls back.) Hester, 1 am dying!— 

Hester. Shall we not meet again? Shall we not spend 
our immortal lives together ? Have we not ransomed one 
another with all this woe? Thou lookest far into eter- 
nity, — tell me what thou seest ? 

Dimmesdale. Hush, Hester, hush ! The law we broke !— 
The sin so awfully revealed ! God knows, and he is mer- 
ciful ! (Dies, with his head resting on Hester's bosom. Pearl buries 



50 The Scarlet Letter. 

her face in her hands. Chillingworth stands R, with his hack turned 
on Dimmesdale. Bellingham and Wilson stand immediately behind 
Dimmesdale, looking down upon his body. Hibbins, with the group 
of citizens, moves down the stage forming a half circle about the front 
group. They all lean foward to look at Dimmesdale, and, as the cur- 
tain descends to low, plaintive music, the people all whisper, 

"THE SCARLET LETTER!" 



THE END. 




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